In Love and War
by Makori
Summary: After the events of Jak 3, Keira feels betrayed, while a mysterious detective mercenary is in Spargus feeling the same way. What happens when the two meet? KxOC CH. 4 NOW UP!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Jak game series. If I did, I'd be making the next game, not a fanfic. Do the math.

In Love and War

Chapter 1

Spargus City. Normally, a good place to go for rare guns, a good vehicle, or just to relax. It was also a place of crime. Mat knew this as he sat in the small house, smoking a cigarette. A Magni-Holster was strapped to his left leg, and sitting next to him was a machine gun (imagine a Tommy-Gun, only all the metal parts are platinum). Some magazines of ammo also sat near him (also platinum), stacked on top of an open crate, which held more ammo. He wore a shoulder holster, (which was set up for a left-hand draw) the strap feeling more natural than the shirt sticking to his sweaty chest. He was spinning his handgun on a finger of his left hand. Some would call him a geek because of the wire glasses over his storm cloud-grey eyes. But they'd only do it once, and then they might not ever even talk again. Mat was a detective, a Pinkerton to be specific. Yes, the name of the company did sound weird. But the men that were in the employment of the agency were more like mercenaries. But the Boss was smarter than that. He didn't just hire muscle; he hired 'smart' muscle. Mat, unfortunately, didn't fall into the muscle category. In fact, he barely passed the age requirement of eighteen. But he'd been hired because he could think without getting a headache, and because he had an itchy trigger and a fast hand. The other members of his squad were sitting around, smoking and playing cards. Their guns were loaded and they were ready to go. All they needed was the signal. They'd been tracking a smuggler from Kras City, to Haven, and now, they had him cornered here in Spargus. Now, they were going to take him down. Now if Mat could get over his damn impatience…Suddenly, three squawks on the Talkie alerted him, and he grabbed it, fastening it to his belt, saying "Alright boys, this is it. He's coming." Now, normally a kid wouldn't be heard calling a group of grown men 'boys', but Mat was highly respected. After all, he'd slaughtered the record three times on the Pinkerton's private Gun Course. They all started pulling on long trench coats. Insane in this heat, yes, but effective for hiding the Magni-Holsters strapped to all their legs. His men had rifles, though. Only he had a machine gun because he'd purchased it. They all donned floppy cowboy hats, except for Mat, who slapped a sailor's hat onto his head, (Not the 'Pop-eye' kinda sailor hat, more like 1930's freighter sailor. Sorry, I LOVE the 1930's.) and picked up their guns and ammo. Walking out the door, they all looked like gunslingers, which they were. They all had shoulder holsters, so their pistols were also concealed. All the better to get the jump on someone. As they approached the target area, Mat began to think of what they would do. Would they spread out and surround the criminal lord, or just open fire. Before he got his chance, however, he walked around the corner, and was met with a gun barrel. There he stood, Arlen Paxton, a dark skinned man in his early forties, pointing a shotgun into Mat's face. One shot, and his head would be no more. Paxton grinned and pointed to a body behind him. It was the spy that Mat had sent after Paxton to find him. "You didn't I wouldn't have found your man, did you? We decided to come here, as his orders said, and find out how many of you were sent after us." It was only then that Mat saw the eight or nine other thugs standing behind Paxton, pointing their rifles at the Pinkerton squad. Mat's squad numbered about six men, no more. And they were obviously not going to get out of this alive. _'Oh Mar'_, he silently prayed, _'If there's anything I have to do to pay you back for getting out of this, I wouldn't think twice about doing it.'_ Mat wasn't very religious, but he never actually expected it to work. It was more of a reflex thing. But apparently, someone up there liked him. With a yell, a Pinkerton Agent leapt from the roof of a building, landing on Paxton, giving the rest of the Pinkertons time to draw. Shots rang out as all the gunmen dove for cover. Mat blasted two or three in the back with his machine gun before a bullet in the dirt two inches from him told him to take cover. As the shots echoed and the curses and yelled flew with the bullets, civilians fled, and wastelanders backed off, obviously not trying to get involved with this. Mat reloaded, throwing away another empty magazine. This was serious. Now they'd only have a slight chance of getting Paxton, and they were already running low on ammo. Only one thing to do. Mat reached into his pocket and pulled out two grenades. Pressing the buttons, he threw them into the street. They exploded, and smoke began to hiss out of them. Paxton, realizing what was happening, shouted "INTO THAT HOUSE, NOW!" The Pinkertons used the smoke as cover and started crossing the avenue while Paxton and his gang ducked into a house, shutting the door behind them. Mat motioned to the door and shouted "Price! Get that goddamned door open!" The man followed orders and ran up to the door and kicked it once, and when he was about to kick it again- _BOOM! _A shot, more like an explosion, blew through the door, knocking Price off his feet. Paxton had blown a hole in the door with his shotgun. There was no point checking Price. Not even the bulletproof vest he wore would've saved him. All the other Pinkerton Agents scrambled off to the sides, firing random shots over their shoulders, which only wasted their ammo. Mat crouched next to the door and waited. He could hear footsteps inside, scrambling up the stairs to the second floor. Realizing what they were up to, Mat kicked down what remained of the door, and started firing. Two more thugs fell. One because of the man's falling off the stairs and landing on his own knife, and two because Paxton grabbed one of the men and used him as a shield. Typical gang lord. Mat kicked the body out of the way and followed Paxton up the stairs to the balcony. It wasn't very high up, no more than a few yards. Paxton was scrambling onto the next house. Perfect. Mat smiled, slightly, and pulled a flare gun out of his pocket. Pointing it up, he glanced at Paxton and whispered "Sayonara." He fired. The flare, bright green, flew up and exploded. Instantly, four riders on leapers came bounding down the street. They instantly dismounted and pulled guns, aiming at Paxton, who had frozen. But it wasn't the Pinkerton riders he was concerned with. It was the Pinkerton air train in front of him that he was worked up about. It had its laser sights trained on Paxton chest, and Pinkertons were climbing out of the yellow vehicle, also training their guns on him. A Sand Shark pulled up behind Mat, and the driver and passenger climbed out, making sure Paxton was in sight. Mat's squad came up behind the car and fixed scopes onto their guns. Paxton tried to run back along the top of the building, but suddenly, Mat was behind him, poking his machine gun into his chest. Paxton raised his hands in surrender-then smiled. No seriously. Smiled. He whistled…and an explosion rocked the ground as the Sand Shark blew up, killing the drivers and sending the sniper teams' bodies flying. Another explosion, and then another, as the air train took a hit and crashed, killing the squad beneath it. The riders scrambled onto their mounts just as a burst of machine gun fire sounded, filling them with more plasma than a thirty volt force field. Mat was dumbstruck. But not too much to not fire. Unfortunately, Paxton was escaping, clambering over the side of the building and into…a desert camouflage Hellcat. Mat began to run. His strike force was dead, and he would be too, if he didn't escape. More bullets whizzed past him, some striking the ground, some going nowhere. Suddenly, a searing pain tore into his leg, but he kept running. He jumped off the building and ducked into a narrow alley. He couldn't hear the Hellcat anymore, but he kept running. Then, he burst into the garage. Without waiting, he grabbed a Dust Demon and took off. His leg was bleeding profusely, but he didn't care, he just kept on driving. And driving. And driving. Eventually, the desert began to turn into grassland, and before he knew it, he was speeding through Haven Forest. He knew what came ahead and let loose with the grenades. He barely dented the blast gate, but the G-force of the vehicle was enough to, on impact, knock a hole clean through the two foot thick steel obstruction. Of course, the vehicle took a beating, but he was safe. For the moment. Mat flew through empty air for a few seconds that seemed to last forever, thinking only one thing-_'Is this the end?'_ Then the car crashed, upside-down, skidding along the street. Civilians ducked out of his way as the wreckage slid, spraying sparks, towards the port. (Note; Haven Forest may not lead to South Town, but I decided to make it do that for more excitement and better storyline) In his precious few seconds before he hit water, Mat's last thought was _'Mar, what did I do to deserve this? OK, so I killed some people, but that was just my job. Jak killed hundreds of the Krimzon Guard in the First War, but he did that out of pure will, and he even lived through the Second War. Please, Mar, give me one last chance.'_ Then, he hit water and blacked out.

Keira had decided to start closing up shop for the night. She'd work on the Zoomer with the crumpled front tomorrow. As she began to lock up, she began to reminisce upon what had happened. Jak had left her for some gun-slinging bossy-know it all, AKA, Ashelin. She'd seen them kiss. Why, was the question. Why did Jak leave her? She thought they'd had something, but now it had just fallen away. Something began bugging her. Just slightly though, so she didn't realize it for a few minutes. Then it blasted into her head. She spun around. Things were definantly NOT right. As she watched the Dust Demon screech past her towards the port, she caught a glimpse of something in the driver's seat. A person. A boy, to be exact. About her age. Something landed at her feet. She looked down to see…a hat. A sailor's hat, to be exact. She picked it up and examined it. Dust. From the desert. That meant he was either an outlaw, or a lawman. Then she heard the splash and looked up. The vehicle had hit the port. She didn't know what made her do it, but the next thing she knew she was running towards the water, and she couldn't stop herself. She jumped in, and the water engulfed her hair.

Mat drifted in and out of consciousness. He was going to die, he knew it. After serving about five months on the Pinkerton Detective Agency, after slaughtering the record three times, after surviving gunfight after gunfight, he was going to die, in the water. It was actually kind of funny. Something that had saved his life so many times in the desert was going to kill him. He had the vague memory of hearing a splash, then seeing a face, an elfin face, a girl's face. Aqua-green hair and…her eyes stood out the most. Bright green. Like his flare. The last thing he remembered was the girl grabbing his jacket.

Keira swam up, trying to break the surface, but she had never been much of a swimmer. Hell, she wasn't much of an athlete, but she had to try. Unfortunately, trying didn't seem to be getting her anywhere. She was still two yards from the surface and already her strength was leaving her. She saw red spots in her vision. At first she thought she was going down, but then realized it was blood. Blood from the boy…? Nevertheless, with one huge effort, she broke the surface and took the one breath of air that she'd never cherished more in her life. She was gasping, spluttering as she hauled the boy up onto the surface. The last thing she remembered was a blue Hellcat coming low to the surface, and Jinx reaching down to her.

(If this is good, please say good stuff. It's my first one.)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Jak games. That belongs to Naughty Dog.

**In Love and War**

Chapter 2

Floating. That's all Mat could describe unconsciousness like. But it was definantly not like the sleeping floating. This was where you knew exactly when you went out, and it wasn't sudden. It also seemed to drag on forever. _'What are you doin', man?'_ Oh great. He was hearing voices again. _'I'm tap dancing. Whattya think, moron! I fell into the water, and I'm down for the count. You saw what happened. I'm just lucky I wasn't killed by Paxton or any of his goons.' 'Yeah, but you lost your squad. Anyway, you're still alive! And a hot chick saved your life!' 'How do you know? I could've been seeing things!' 'Than would you be alive, talking to yourself?'_ The voice had a point. Oh, great, now he was agreeing with himself. If Mat was able to, he'd roll his eyes until he grew dizzy. If he lived through this, he'd have to see a doctor. However, now it was time to come back into the real world. The first thing that hit him when he awoke was the voices. "Is he alright? I'd hate to lose one of my agents-for-hire," said a scratchy voice, obviously male. Agents-for-hire? Oh, right he was with the Pinkertons. Another voice said "Yes, he'll be fine. I patched up the wound on his le and the cut on his forehead." Must've been the doctor. He didn't remember what he was talking about though. Bullet wound on his leg? Cut on his forehead? What was he talking about? Then there was a third voice, a girl's voice. "What about his back? I saw a bunch of shrapnel sticking out." Huh? Now this was confusing. Time to try something else. He cracked one eyelid open. His vision was fuzzy. His glasses must be somewhere else. He began to look around the room. Three figures stood there. One had reddish-brown hair, another wore a white coat, and a third had…aqua-green hair. Just like the girl who pulled him out of…the port! Mat snapped back to reality as the pain hit him. He opened his other eye as the doctor said "Funny thing, about the shrapnel. I took off his coat and his shirt and found he was wearing a bulletproof vest. The shrapnel hadn't penetrated the first layer. But what puzzled me the most was that the vest was made from an unusual mix of titanium particles and Freedom League armor. Almost completely impenetrable." "That's odd. The Pinkertons don't give those kinds of vests to anyone but their best. Those things are expensive. But this kid can't be much older than sixteen," the scratchy voice. "Excuse me," Mat was shocked to find his mouth moving and his throat speaking. "I'm almost nineteen." All three figures apparently turned around to look at him. He tried to put on his best scowl, but it just gave him a headache. The figure in the white coat said "Ah, you're awake. Good. We weren't sure if you'd make it through the night." "You OK, kid?" asked the scratchy voice, which apparently belonged to the brown-haired guy. "Where's my glasses?" Mat asked, trying to move. He was hit with a sharp pain in his leg and head. "Don't move," said the girl. "I've got them." The figure approached, and then his vision cleared. He looked around. First at the doc, then at the brown-haired guy whom he recognized as Torn, the commander of the Freedom League who was also currently signing the Pinkerton's checks. Then his eyes fell on the girl. Damn, she was so beautiful. It took his breath away. Literally. "What the-" the doc exclaimed, leaning over the pulse reading machine. It had started beeping like crazy. That's when Mat realized he was holding his breath. He let it go, and his pulse eventually settled back down. The doc and Torn put two and two together, and then smiled slyly. Or at least, the doc did. Torn wasn't so forgiving. "What the hell were you doing here anyway, boy?" he said, very loudly. Mat winced. His head wasn't so kind to him when it came to noise right about now. Meanwhile, Torn kept rambling, his voice getting louder and louder until he was shouting. "I oughta behind bars for what you did. Six civilians wounded, one dead, a blast gate destroyed, and about half a mile of Haven forest has tire marks now! What kinda stunt did you think you could-" "Shut up!" yelled Mat, much to his own surprise. Torn did indeed shut up, going red with anger as he did however. That's when Mat poured it all out for them. Every detail. The gunfight, him chasing Paxton, Paxton's escape, and finally, his mad dash to escape from Spargus. "And when I saw the blast gate, I realized I was going too fast to stop, so I laid everything I had on the gate. I was able to blast through and then I skidded into the water. That's all I remember. So get off my case you friggin'-" Mat couldn't bring himself to insult the commander. Instead, he just sat there breathing hard. It was only then that he realized he was sitting up. All of the room's other occupants were staring at him, mouths open. The girl even had a hand clamped over hers. Mat fell back against the pillow and said "My name is Mat Roder. I'm a Sergeant in the Pinkerton Detective Agency. I have broken the Pinkerton Gun Course record three times in a row and am in second best in the racing course record, second only to the chief himself. I'm sorry about your blast gate." The room was now silent except for the steady _beep-beep_ of the pulse machine. Torn finally shut his mouth and, apparently swallowing his pride, said "I'm sorry, kid-I mean Mat. I didn't realize what you'd been through." The doc simply hung his head, but the girl was staring him straight in the face. Not like she thought he was a liar, just that she was…well, concerned. And he thought he would be too, if he wasn't getting lost inside those deep green eyes. Deep, deep, green eyes. Like a mine with only emeralds in it. The doctor said something, and Torn and the girl got up to leave. Mat's hand shot up and he said "Not her, please. I want to get to know…my…I guess 'hero,' a little better." He blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Mat gulped. He hadn't even meant to say that. Torn was already long gone, however, so it didn't really matter if he'd blinked or not. Then, the girl smiled, and said "OK, doc?" The doc shrugged and said "Hell I don't care. They don't pay me enough as it is. Just make sure nothing goes wrong." He followed after Torn, shutting the door behind him. Now they were alone. Silence. Neither of then spoke, trying to size up the other. Mat gulped. This was going to be difficult.

Keira was indeed trying to size Mat up. She looked at every part of his face she could see. The dirty blond buzz cut, the storm-grey eyes, his lips that were set in a line. She didn't know if she should speak first. Then she saw him gulp and realized that he was just as nervous as she was. And she relaxed. Slightly. Walking over to a chair near him, she sat down and said "I'm Keira." The boy, or rather man, smiled. She _should_ start calling him by his real name. "Well, Keira," sat Mat, a glint of relaxation in his eyes. Just a glint. But, like storm clouds covering the sun, his eyes quickly covered that as he asked "What made you save a rascal like me? I felt done in before I made it through the gate." Technically, this wasn't true, since he'd been praying all along. But it felt like the right thing to say. Keira giggled a little, then said "I saw you just before you hit the water. The look on your face said you weren't afraid to die. I figured anyone who was that brave should be given a second chance." "Well, this was more like my twentieth chance," said Mat. Keira laughed again, and Mat struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain, which was very hard to do at this moment, and said "Is Torn always such an ass?" It was a question he had second thoughts about, but those thoughts were blown away as Keira didn't miss a beat and replied "He hasn't always been this way. Only since…" She stopped there as she thought about what she was going to say. How Ashelin and Jak had gotten together? Or should she do it in more of a negative manner and say how much of a bitch Ashelin was. Eventually, she just stuck with the least hurtful answer. "Since the end of the war. That's when we realized we had a lot fewer men than before." Okay, lame excuse, but what could she say? Mat, however, just lay there, and then said, quietly, "I know how he feels. There's no glory in war, except at its end. I've seen more deaths in my service to the Agency than you'll probably see in your whole life." Mat bowed his head, wishing he could better pay his respects the dead, not just Torn's dead men, but ALL the dead he'd seen die. Keira saw the grief in his eyes, again as a flicker before the storm that was apparently brewing in his head covered them up. Mat looked up and she changed the subject. "You said you'd broken the Gun Course record at your Agency three times already. How'd you get to be so good?" Mat smiled again. His smile was very curious. It started in the middle of his lips and spread out to one side first, then the other. It was actually kind of…cute. "Practice," said Mat, brining her out of her daydream. "It also helps that I grew up in Kras City." "No way!" "Way. At fifteen, I was number eight on Kras' Top Ten Paid Hitters list. And if you don't believe that, go check the records!" they sat and talked for hours about interests, hobbies, friends, their hometowns, and finally, about love interests. "So, you went out with Jak, huh? That doesn't surprise me." "Why not?" asked Keira, a little surprised. Mat smiled and said "It's only logical that he'd go out with the cutest girl in town." He froze. He hadn't meant to say that. Keira felt her heart leap at his words. _'He thinks you're cute, you think he's cute. C'mon, girl, get yourself some of that! It's perfect for recovering from what Jak did to you!'_ Meanwhile, Mat's voice was back with a vengeance. _'She's hot. Seriously hot. And it sounds like she's ripe for the picking!'_ Mat mentally rolled his eyes. He'd seriously have to see a shrink about this. He looked over at her, dreading Keira's response to his statement. But she just smiled. "Thanks," she said. Continuing, she asked "Did you ever go out with anyone?" To her surprise, Mat began to laugh. Keira wondered what she'd said. It was a perfectly good question, so why was he laughing? Mat finally got his breath and his voice together and asked "Me? What makes you think a girl would want to go out with ME? An eighteen year old gunslinger with glasses. Look at this." He lifted up his shirt, showing off his thin frame. Keira blinked. Mat was thin, but he was…well…muscled. His stomach showed off what she guessed was the start of a six pack, and his shoulder muscles bulged out as they led to his arms. However, what Mat was showing her was a small scar in the middle of his chest. It was a little X. "Got that in a job right here in Haven. I was trying to arrest one of Krew's boys, what was his name…Jinx! That's it! He'd been playing around too much with explosives and I was ordered to get him. But then he shot me right here. Punched a hole through my right lung. The surgeons had to take off some of that lung, so now I'm what you might call an asthmatic." Dropping his shirt, he shifted himself on the bed. Keira unwittingly found that her eyes were tracing along his arms, up to his chest. He was more muscled than she thought. And Mat, being so tired, couldn't stop HIS eyes from going up Keira's frame, from her stomach, up to her chest, to her neck. They both froze when their eyes met. They knew that the other had been checking them out. _'Oh Mar. Look at those eyes! He's got such a mysterious behavior around him for a detective. Ha, a detective with mystery. Kinda funny.'_ _'Ho-lee-crap, will you look at those curves! Damn it, she's like a fallen angel!'_ There was an awkward silence. Keira nervously reached into her pocket and slowly pulled something out. Mat squinted when he saw it, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. He reached out and took it. It was real alright. It was his hat. He smiled, looking up at Keira. She was smiling too. "Thanks," he said, plopping the hat onto his head. "You don't know how important this hat is to me." She'd know, though. Eventually.

(Whew, my hands hurt. Well, Whattya think?)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Oh this is just getting annoying…

**In Love and War**

Chapter 3

Keira returned to her machine shop the next morning with a smile. It didn't even matter that Jinx was standing right there, as he did every morning with a new piece of junk for her to 'fix', while he stood behind her and stared every time she bent over. His putrid cigars were bad enough, but did he have to come _every friggin' day!_ She hoped he'd learned his lesson last time when he'd palmed her ass. She'd whopped him over the head with a wrench. Now, he was just standing there, smoking while she went about her business. It seemed that a cloud of smoke was always around his head, and every time he spoke, it was like he had a fire in his stomach. "Hey, Hot Hands, what's that thing? Looks like a trashed Dust Demon." Keira looked over, horrified. Jinx had gone behind the curtain, looking at the remnants of Mat's vehicle. She'd had it towed out of the harbor, and was trying to fix it for him, but now Jinx had found it, there was no way it would be a secret anymore. Jinx had a large smile plastered on his face as he said "Wasn't that daredevil driver Mat driving a Dust Demon when he came in a few days ago? I could've sworn that's his-" he didn't finish because Keira walked up to up and snarled in his face "If you tell **anyone** about that, I'll throw every tool I've got at you!" Jinx took a step or two back as Keira whirled back around. Then she froze. Once again, Jinx's hand was on her ass. What's more, he was squeezing it! The perv! She was about to whirl around and knock him out when there came an ominous _click_ behind Jinx and he let go of her. She turned around, slowly. Jinx had his hands up, a look of pure terror on his face. His cigar was on the ground, in a puddle of oil, and pointed at the back of his head was a gun. Holding the gun was a figure only slightly taller than her, wearing a trench coat and…a sailor's hat. The figure lifted its head, and the light shone down on Mat's face. He was smoking a cigarette and acting as casual as if he was talking to a friend. "Hey, Jinx," he said, letting out a puff of smoke from between his lips. "Remember me? The guy you bore a hole through?" Jinx was panicking now, sweating in fright. The guy was probably crapping in his pants right about now. "Y-yeah," stammered the nervous elf. "I r-remember y-you. You slashed open my g-gut with your knife." "And now I come back to Haven and I find you doing naughty things," said Mat, as if he were talking to a five year old. "Now, the question is, what shall I do with you?" Keira vaguely wondered if Mat would pull the trigger. At least she wouldn't have to put up with Jinx's bullshit anymore. _'No! Don't think that! It's not right!'_ But another part of her was begging for Mat to pull the trigger, just to see if he had the guts to do it. Jinx was now bathed in sweat as he stood there, scared. Mat calmly took another puff of his cigarette, threw it down, and stamped it out. Then he pulled his gun back, putting the pistol back into a holster under his right shoulder. It was only then that she realized he was a lefty. That was kinda strange. Most gunmen were trained to shoot with their right hand. Suddenly, Mat spun Jinx around and punched him, right across the jaw. Jinx would've fallen back if Mat hadn't grabbed him by the scarf and backhanded him. Then he threw Jinx out and yelled after him "And don't come back!" Mat's limbs were worn out even from this small exertion. He'd only just tried to get out of bed and move other places, and he was worn out. Turning back inside, he hid his exhaustion when he saw that Keira was laughing-yes laughing- and he was a little puzzled by it. "Uh…was something I did?" he asked. Truth be told, Keira wasn't laughing at how Jinx was thrown out for long. Actually, she was laughing at how oddly adorable Mat looked when he was doing something for her…especially when he got angry! However, she wasn't about to tell him that, so instead, she calmed down and said, still giggling "No! Well-yes, actually. It was the look on Jinx's face when he got thrown out! Oh, man! It's about time someone taught that _perv_ a lesson!" Mat relaxed slightly. Only slightly. One did not become one of the deadliest men in the world by relaxing. In fact, he was kind of nervous with his back to the open door. What if someone was aiming a sniper rifle at him? He would be a hard target to miss. No, he relaxed because he'd made Keira laugh. That was good. Laughter meant she wasn't freaked out at what he'd done. Casually leaning into the shop to cover his back, he said "Well, I guess I'm glad I was the teacher." Man, did Keira crack up at that one. She was laughing so hard, she had to lean against a battered Zoomer to keep herself up. Once she got a hold of herself, Mat smiled and said "They finally let me out of the hospital. I got a grilling from Torn already. He thinks I should lie low and do some work." Taking off his trench coat, he put it unceremoniously on a coat rack, then bowed low, saying "Your wish is my command, milady." Keira giggled a little bit more at this. Mat was trying desperately hard not to let her see the beads of sweat forming on his brow. All this physical stuff was hard after what he'd been through. He was worn out and yet he still wanted to do things for this girl. One would almost think he…no. Not him. Not Sergeant Roder. He wouldn't fall for a girl he just met. Would he? Nonetheless, Keira was able to put him to work, having him lift heavy things and play bouncer to unnerve some of the tougher guys who came in. It's very hard to threaten a mechanic girl when a boy with a military buzz is standing only a few meters away from you, looking over a loaded machine gun. One of them even went into the same panic Jinx had.

At the end of the day, Mat and Keira were working on a Hellcat that refused to even go forward, much less fly. Mat was holding up the front end, since the thing was so big it went over the sides of the support stands. He could've sworn that right there and then that he would have to be dead three days to feel better after this. Keira was underneath, the innards of the military Zoomer spread out above her. Mat was able to get a good opportunity to get a better look at Keira this way, even if his arms felt as if they were about to fall out of their sockets. Her hair was glistening with sweat from the muggy day, and her skin shone a soft, golden sheen from the light of the sunset. Once again, it took Mat's breath away. And if he didn't start breathing again, the strain combined with the lack of oxygen would've taken his life away. Keira also used this moment to get a good view of Mat. She could see his muscles, bulging out from his efforts since his T-shirt was soaking with sweat and sticking to his chest. Every one of those small, but well defined muscles stood out. But what she concentrated on most was his face. That single-minded determination to accomplish his goal, which apparently was to not have a heart attack. She actually found that kind of attractive. But the thing she concentrated on most was his face. Specifically, his eyes. The storm was rolling again, which was her way of saying that she could tell he was thinking hard about something. She couldn't tell what it was. She never could tell what Mat was thinking. Suddenly, there came the roar of an engine, and Mat looked over his shoulder as there came a screech of brakes, and voices. Then, a shadow appeared in the door, followed by figures.

As Jak, Ashelin, Daxter, and Torn pulled up in front of Keira's garage, they knew what kind of night it was going to be. Plenty of drinking and dancing at the Naughty Ottsel. Once, every week, they all got together for a party at Daxter and Tess's joint. It'd originally been Krew's bar, before Jak had shot the gang lord down. Now, however, Daxter and Tess owned the place and did quite well for two ottsels. As they all walked up to the door, Torn seemed a little more moody than usual. Was it because Jak had his arm around Ashelin's shoulders or what? As they all stepped through the door, they expected Keira to be working on some wrecked vehicle, humming to herself to break the silence. However, what they found put surprised looks on all their faces. Well, Torn recovered pretty quickly. A young man stood there, holding a Hellcat to stop it from crashing off the support stands, with Keira working on the underbelly of the vehicle. The way Torn recovered was this; he stepped forward and shouted "TEN-HUT!" In response, the young man said "Look, Commander Torn, I don't care if you're pissed with me right now. You told me to lay low and that's-" It was at that moment that the young man looked up, saw Jak and Ashelin, and paled. He was supposed to salute to the bounty hunter and Governess, but if he let go, Keira would be squashed. "Uh, Keira? We have company." Mat said, not too loud, but loud enough for her to hear. In response, Keira crawled out from underneath to see who it was, and as soon as she was safe, Mat dropped the Hellcat, which fell on its nose with a _crash_. With a guilty look that almost instantly disappeared, Mat saluted to the people in front of him. "At ease," said Ashelin, instantly curious. Matt let his hand fall, and knelt down to pick the Hellcat back up, when Torn yelled "BACK TO ATTENTION, SERGEANT RODER!" Man, what the hell was it with this guy? Mat snapped up straight again. Torn strode forward and said "And just what do you think you're doing here, Sergeant?" "Following your orders, SIR!" Mat replied. "My-my orders!" Torn stammered. Everyone could see he was getting angry. "Yes, sir. You told me to lie low and go get a job until my leave, sir," replied Mat, showing not one hint of fear. "You're not clinically stable, Sergeant! I oughta bust you back down to buck Private! You were SUPPOSED to be in bed all of today," Torn snapped, obviously getting irritable. "Instead you go and work your ass off in a machine shop! You don't know squat about machines! You'd only get in the way, or open your injuries again! Or-" "I don't have to stand here and listen to this, sir," Mat declared, picking up a rag, wiping his hands and face off, and heading towards his guns and trench coat. "What!" Torn exclaimed, storming over to him. "I don't like you, Sergeant. You better get a better attitude towards those who rank higher than you, or you're going down!" "STOP!" yelled Ashelin, Jak, and Keira at the same time. "OK, what the hell is going on here?" asked Ashelin. "Keira, Torn, who IS this guy?" asked Jak. "And WHY do you guys have to be so loud!" whimpered Daxter, removing his paws from his ears. Torn turned to Ashelin and Jak and said "This is Sergeant Mat Roder. He's a Pinkerton Agent. And he's also the maverick that tore through our blast gate!" Keira stood up and exclaimed "He's not a maverick! He just lost control of his vehicle! What would you do if you were shot and being chased by a killer?" The argument went on for some time, maybe five minutes, before Ashelin said "Ok, STOP!" Torn and Keira stopped, both red in the face from yelling. Mat, surprisingly, had just stood there quietly, not giving a single word to help himself. Ashelin admired that, so she stepped forward and extended her hand, saying "Welcome to Haven City, Sergeant." Mat shook her hand, saying "You can call me Mat. Everyone does." Keira wiped off her face and said "Why are you guys here, anyways?" Jak looked surprised. He blinked twice and said "Tonight's the party, Keira. Don't you remember?" Keira remembered then, alright. "Oh! Hang on, I'll go get cleaned up!" She then hurried away, up the stairs to her apartment. Torn glared at the boy, who stood there and took it, then walked outside. That left Mat, Jak, Ashelin, and Daxter. And of course, Daxter opened his fat mouth. Again. "So, you're a detective, huh? How many cases have you solved?" Mat looked down and said "Well, I don't actually solve mysteries. I actually follow and catch or kill the crook." In the blink of an eye, he'd drawn his pistol and was pointing it at Daxter's face. It took the ottsel a few seconds to realize what had happened, but when he did, the result was as expected. "AAAUUUUGGGHHH!" he yelled, scampering up Jak's leg and onto his shoulder, trembling. Mat chuckled a little and, reholstering his gun, said "A party, huh? Am I invited?" Torn heard this last part and was about to say 'no' when Ashelin immediately replied "Of course. It's not really an invite thing. The bar's just on the other side of the port." Mat blushed a bit. He should've known. A bar was always public, including before and after working hours, when the eager drinkers got in with a bribe, or when the drunks couldn't be thrown out. They heard a voice and turned to see Keira, slightly cleaner, coming back down the stairs. She hadn't changed her clothes, but she'd definantly washed her hands and face and…was that a touch of eyeliner? And was that a thin layer of lipstick? He didn't know how he knew, but Mat could tell Keira didn't put on makeup very often. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but say "Wow," under his breath. Jak heard this, however, and elbowed Mat in the side and said "Watch her for me, would you?" He then winked. Mat frowned slightly. Huh? A second alter, he whispered something in Ashelin's ear, then turned to Keira and said "Well, Keira, I'm going with Ashelin, Torn says he doesn't want to go with anyone. Who are you going with?" Mat suddenly understood. He then turned away and started acting sullen and slightly moody, playing along. Keira pretended to think about it, knowing the game that Jak was playing. "Hmm, how about…Daxter!" Mat did something he'd never thought he'd do. His back snapped up straight, his eyes went wide, and a look of shock went onto his face. Suddenly, there was a flash…and Mat saw Ashelin holding a camera, laughing. So were Jak, Daxter, and Keira. Even Torn had walked in to see what was taking them so long and gave himself a chuckle. Mat realized what they were doing; and smiled as well. Walking over to Ashelin, he took her camera and scrolled through the memory, found the photo of his face…and burst out laughing. Keira smiled. She hadn't heard Mat laugh, but it sounded so…sexy, for lack of better words. He had a deep, throaty laugh that seemed to come from all the way down in his toes and echo up into his mouth. Yet it sounded rough, unused…Keira shook it off and walked down to Mat, who had gotten control of himself, but was still smiling. Slipping her hand onto his shoulder, she said, playfully, "On second thought, I think I'll go with our guest of honor." Torn didn't like Mat being called their 'guest of honor,' but he held his tongue. Instead he slipped back outside. Mat looked down at Keira, a small hint of surprise showing in his eyes before the storm covered it up. Smiling even broader, he said "Of course I'll go with you Keira. Everyone needs a bodyguard." Keira didn't know whether to blush or hit his arm. So she did both. "Ow, hey! Now is that anyway to treat your bodyguard?" Giggling, Keira led him over towards her vehicle. Combat Racing was becoming a very popular sport in the region, so naturally, everyone had a vehicle. It just so happened that Keira was the only one who still used a Zoomer. It was an old, green two seater, but Keira loved the thing all the same. She'd poured a lot of blood sweat and tears into this thing to give up on it now. Keira slid into one seat, while Mat climbed into the other. His movements were so fluid and graceful; he barely rocked the vehicle at all. "Let's get this party STARTED!" yelled Daxter from Jak and Ashelin's Sand Shark.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Once again, I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE JAK GAMES OR CHARACTERS OF SAID GAMES

In Love and War

Chapter 4

Meanwhile, far away, in the Forbidden Jungle, a concrete building stood out of place against all the foliage. This building was three stories high, and was the size of a Haven city street block. Inside, numerous scientists worked on countless machines, doing experiments with DNA. In the high tower, which was at the back of the building, an office sat on the top. Inside were four figures. One was Paxton. The dark skinned smuggler did not look happy to be there and said it. Time and time again. "I'm serious, man. If I get caught making one of YOUR shipments, you're gonna pay!" Another figure chuckled. This one was kind of husky, and wore a bulletproof jacket made out of woven Precursor metal. A tough job, yes, but worth it. This man was light skinned, wore a cowboy hat, and had enormous muscles. Basically, a perfect candidate for a bodyguard. And that's exactly what he was, from his steel booted toes, to the automatic pistols on his belt, to his shaved head. And the person he was guarding was…"Upton Julius," the man said, relaxing his hands so that they were down by his pistols. "Does not like complaints." "Now, now, Whitey, we must let some of our contacts express their opinions," said the figure behind the desk, in a Southern drawl. Julius was tall, wire thin, and intelligent. The man standing in the corner, fumbling with his notes was his head scientist, Dr. Eric Chanikov. "Doctor," said Julius, turning to him with a small smile on his face. "How many more shipments of the supplies we requested do we need?" Chanikov fumbled his notes a little more, than said "Well, our experiments in mixing animal DNA have proved successful, so we don't need anymore of the said animal DNA, except for a few." He thumbed through the list, before saying "We only need one shipment of each. Polar bear DNA, Gorilla DNA, Bat DNA, Chameleon DNA, Giant Spider DNA, and…"Chanikov paused, cleared his throat nervously and said "Metal Head DNA." Paxton look surprised. "Metal Head DNA? But Metal Heads are becoming rarer and rarer. It's going to be expensive, so I'm going to need to charge some more for it." "Done," said Julius. Paxton seemed satisfied, so he turned to leave. Once the sound of his footsteps died off, Julius said "Have we located the Principle?" "Yes sir," said Whitey Hooten, the bodyguard, pulling out a map and placing it on the desk. "It is currently in Haven City. It seems to spend most of its time around South Town. We have found it currently heading towards the Naughty Ottsel, a bar in that area." Julius thought for a few moments, then turned to Chanikov and said "Can we neutralize the Principle with your new tranquilizer?" "Yes, but, there is one side effect to worry about; apparently, the compound awakens animalistic rage. It'll be hard to control him." "I don't care." Scoffed Julius, turning back to Hooten, and saying "Get yourself an air rifle and some tranquilizers. Take a few men too. I want him alive, but he needn't be intact." Hooten nodded, then walked out. Julius leaned forward, looking at the photo on his desk. It showed a young man, walking out of a building, with a trench coat and a hat. A sailor's hat. "You won't escape me this time, boy. I'll find you, and when I do, you'll go through hell."

Mat had to admit, this place was real swinging joint. If that's what people called places like these anymore. On the way over with Keira, he'd lit up a cigarette. She'd flashed him a look of both shock and distaste. In response, Mat had simply smiled at her, revealing his clean, white teeth. For some reason, they were never stained with nicotine. "Don't worry. I just light one of these up whenever I'm in deep thought." And indeed he was. Strange and familiar images kept coming back to his mind again and again. He'd been having some weird dreams, as well. His latest one consisted of him running through a forest, feeling apprehension, panic, pain. It had ended when he'd had to hit his alarm clock. But what did it mean? And the memories. One was of a busy laboratory and him pounding on the glass with more fury than he'd ever had in his life. Another was of pain, just nerve-wracking pain. Mat shook this off. He was just…Mat. Although, just being Mat could one day get him killed. He flicked the cigarette over the side when it was only half finished. He had to get his mind off these sorts of things and onto other thing like his job, Paxton...'_Or Keira,'_ said the voice in his head. _'Oh, great, you again.' 'I'm always here Mat. And now I'm telling you that tonight, you're going to do something bold, daring. Something that'll get Keira's interest so much that she'll never get it back.' 'You say that like it's a good thing.' 'Oh, but it is, isn't it. Put aside all these memories, the tough guy act and just…live a little. Oh, and you might want to start talking to Keira right about now.'_ "Mat?" Keira asked, a little worried. "Are you…OK?" Mat snapped back, turned to her and said "Yeah, I'm fine. What were you saying?" "I was saying that we're here." Mat turned around. The bar sat a few yards away from where the Zoomer was currently being parked. Mat swung his legs over the side after disconnecting his seat belt. Big mistake. The ground was about five yards away, since the Zoomer was still being parked. But, amazingly, Mat landed, catlike, and rolled forward, springing up onto his feet. Keira, amazed, finished bringing the Zoomer down and said "How did you do that?" Mat just shrugged and said "To tell you the truth, I don't know. I just feel like I've been doing that all my life, but I've hardly ever fallen from that kind of a distance." And now, here he was, sitting with Keira in a booth. He'd met a few more people. Tess, another ottsel who was apparently an elf only a few weeks ago, a tall Wastelander named Sig, a few of Torn's 'pals', and a few guys who were the bar's band. Right now, he was engaged in a drinking contest between Daxter, Sig, Jak, and a reluctant Torn. The object of the game was to drink as much as you could without falling over or throwing up. So far, they'd all gone through about five bottles of beer, and Daxter had fallen over AND thrown up. Torn was starting to sway a little, and Jak and Sig had both missed their bottles at least once. But Mat kept chugging the stuff down, and nothing seemed to happen to him. Finally, Torn held up a hand after his seventh bottle, belched loudly, and fell onto the table. By the time they got to the twentieth bottle, Jak and Sig were just staring as Mat gulped down the last of his beer and said "What, giving up so soon?" It was official, Mat was the best drinker among them, and he wasn't even legal. "How did you do that?" asked Keira, Ashelin, and Tess when he got back to the bar. Mat just shrugged and said "I don't know. I just never get drunk I guess." Tess walked up to his face with a suspicious look on hers and said "Say something else." Mat shrugged and asked "Why?" Tess sniffed and said "Whoa! I smell a lot of things on your breath but none of its alcohol!" Mat smiled and lit up another cigarette. Tess frowned and said "You're a smoker too? But your teeth look perfect, and there's no nicotine on your breath!" Mat smiled and said "That's just another mystery about the way my body works, I guess." Once again, all the girls frowned and Ashelin asked "Another mystery? What else is there that you haven't told us about?" Mat smiled, leaned back and said "Tess, get some drinks for all of us. Whiskey for me, and whatever these girls want. Put it on my tab." Once Tess came back with the drinks, which she struggled with since she had to juggle three bottles in her ottsel arms, Mat took a gulp and said "Well, I first noticed it back in basic…"

_(Flashback…)_

"TEN-HUT!" shouted the Captain, and instantly, all the occupants in the room stood and saluted as the Colonel walked in. He was an old elf, maybe around seventy-six years old, but he looked serious all the same. "At ease," he said, in a gruff voice. All the room's occupants took a seat. The Colonel stood up at the front of the room, glaring at everyone through his spectacles. "All of you have been chosen from your home cities of Haven, Kras, and Spargus cities because you are the best of the best at your age. You're even better than some who are older than you." Pulling his pistol out, he held it up and said "Who can identify this gun by sight?" Everyone rolled their eyes, trying not to laugh. Just about everyone used that kind of pistol. "Cohen J-37, .50 caliber," they all answered, almost all at the same time. The Colonel nodded and said "I knew you would all know that." Grabbing a rifle from one of the officers, he held it up and asked "Who can identify THIS gun by sight?" Only about half of them knew it. The first one to say so was a small, 14 year old boy in the back with dirty glasses, dirty-blonde hair…and a sailor's cap. "A Harlow '96!" The Colonel nodded and gave the rifle back to the man he'd taken it from. Walking up to a door, he opened it, reached in, and pulled out a machine gun. No one knew what it was, except the same kid who'd answered first before. "A Walker '64, commonly known on the streets as a 'Gravedigger'."The Colonel, frowning, nodded, then walked back to the kid, still holding the machine gun. Standing in front of the kid, the Colonel motioned for him to stand up. Once the kid did so, the Colonel asked "How do you know that?" The kid, fearless, said "I come from Kras City. I practically act like it's a day to day basis if stray shots happen to pass me from a gang war." The Colonel nodded again and said "What's your name?" The kid threw out his chest and said "Mat Roder, sir." "Well, Mat, why don't you take this 'Gravedigger,' as you gangsters call it and try out the gun course." Turning to the rest of the boys, he said "This kid here has a passion for firearms that I expect you all to develop if you want to survive in the service of the Pinkertons. Anyone who thinks they cannot develop such a passion, leave now." No one got up. And the regiment was made.

_(Present)_

"Now, the weird thing was, I'd seen the pistol a lot, so that was no surprise. The rifle I'd seen and heard identified a few times before, no more than that. But the machine gun…I'd only seen it once. Yet I could remember it perfectly. Photographic memory." He took another swig of his whiskey and said "Then on the Gun Course I slaughtered the record for the first time. Would've been a big surprise if it wasn't for the fact that everyone who went in there used the same kind of machine gun I did. I hit every hostile target and ignored every friendly target. It's like I had enhanced reflexes and sight, or something. Then there came one time I was on the trail of a black market dealer in illegal racing parts. I wasn't wearing a very good bulletproof vest, and I got shot in the back. The bullet went through the vest, but for some reason didn't penetrate my skin. It's like I was bullet proof or something. Any way, then came the case in which I was hunting down Jinx for dealing in explosives. I chased him down to the sewers and he blasted me with a sentry gun. That's where I got the scar I was telling you about earlier, Keira. Anyway, I just kept running and shooting. Jinx got away, but not before I destroyed every gun in the sewers, AND filled half the place up with enough lead to make a few air trains. It was only after I got out did I realize I didn't feel any pain. I look down and the skin's already healed. Instead, there's only that scar. I went to the hospital anyway. That's why I lost half of my right lung." Mat continued to tell stories, with Tess smelling his breath every now and then to make sure he wasn't drunk. Eventually, however, the dance floor lit up, and Tess and Ashelin went off to get Jak and Daxter, who were awake now, to dance with them. It was only Keira and Mat at the bar now. A moment of silence passed between them, then, surprisingly for both of them, Keira grabbed Mat's hand and hauled him onto the dance floor. "I can't really dance," Mat had began, and Keira had responded "Don't worry, neither can I!" It actually turned out that Mat was a better dancer than he thought. After a few fast dances, they went back to the bar to get another drink and relax a bit. Mat's thoughts were reeling with what he'd just said to himself before. _'Something daring..._' He lit up another cigarette, thinking. Than, an idea came to him, and excused himself briefly, rushing towards the DJ. Keira rolled her eyes and went back to her drink. Mat ran up and whispered something in the DJ's ear, then slapped some money down on the music counter. Immediately, the DJ did what Mat told him to do; turned off the music. However, the band had set up behind him, and were beginning to play a song (It's called Honky Tonk Badonkadonk, by a guy named Trace Adkins. Look it up, it's pretty good) with a good tune to it. A singer walked up onto the stage, and to everyone's surprise, it was Mat. "Alright boys," he said into the microphone. "This is her favorite song, you know that right? So if we play it good and loud, she might get up and dance again." A girl at the bar perked up at this, then put her drink down. "Ooooh, she put her drink down." The girl started walking up to the stage, and Mat received a moment of surprise when he saw who it was, but recovered and said "Aw, here she comes, here she comes." He then started bobbing his head, saying "Left, Left, Left, Right Left," and Keira stepped onto the stage and started dancing as Mat sang, through his cigarette. (If you do not want to make this story seem like a total waste of your time, look up the song. Title is above.)

_Two minutes later…_

The crowd in the bar clapped, cheered and whistled as Mat finished his song, discarded his cigarette butte and smiled. He had been surprised at Keira, who had busted out moves he'd never expected. _'Must be the alcohol'_ he thought. As the party ended and they stepped outside, everyone was laughing, except for Jak, Daxter and Torn, who were suffering from massive hangovers. Daxter was swinging an arm around, saying how he loved this "friggin', god-awful, piece-o-shit dump," and Ashelin was supporting Torn as he stumbled out the door. Keira was standing next to Mat, looking a little swayed from the alcohol. "How did you know that was my favorite song? I never told ANYONE!" "Just lucky, I guess." Mat wondered what Keira was thinking. She was so attractive, and he'd seen her checking him out. At least, he thought he had. He was in so much of a good mood right now that he was willing to take risks. He reached his hand out for Keira's…and that's when the first shot rang out, striking Mat in the chest.

(Kind of a suspenseful ending, doncha think? Write good stuff, please!)


End file.
